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It took me a lot longer to make it back to Indiana from the Oklahoma stronghold than my original trip down to Texas from Indiana had taken.

One of the things they don’t show in all those apocalypse films is that after a while, gasoline goes bad. Even if a fuel stabilizer is used, it only lasts about 12 to 15 months before it loses enough of its volatility you may as well use maple syrup to run your car. The stronghold has working vehicles because we have contacts with other survivor groups that have holed up in some smaller refineries and trade fuel for other supplies we provide to them, but I was stuck scrounging as I went. Therefore, after two years, most motorized transportation I was going to come across had become useless. Diesel generally still works, but it makes enough noise that not only do the zeds know you’re coming, but so does every marauder, pirate, war clan and other I’d rather be caught by a zed than them low life that’s found a way to survive by preying on others.

So what had taken few days on the trip down, took just over two months on they way back. Of course that includes checking out a couple of survivor camps on the way to see if my grandson had passed thru. As well as a couple of weeks giving some cannibal tribe the slip in Missouri.

Granted, the reason the cannibals were so dogged was that after the third day of avoiding them I decided to grab one to see if my grandson had been at their table (one way or the other). It turns out they had just moved into the area and hadn’t seen him. I’m not much for killing helpless prisoners (even cannibals who have been trying to eat me) but the idiot tried to call for help when some of his clan happened by before I could finish gagging him after our conversation.

I’m not sure exactly where he had fit in their hierarchy, but after that, they seemed very determined to put me on a spit. Eventually I had to back track and introduce the clan boys to a large herd of zeds I’d managed to trap in an old warehouse a little before I’d run into them. Once that was done, I finished making my way back to Kokomo without to much trouble. Now I just had to decide how to search for my grandson without attracting the entire zed population of Kokomo.

Like most of us, I’d always assumed that the various members of my immediate family had either been eaten or turned zed years ago.

My son and his kids had been caught in one of the early quarantine zones the government had tried to set up. In typical government stupidity, the brass decided it was better if everyone in theses zones died (possibly with some 9mm help) in order to stop the spread of this disease rather than risk further outbreaks. They didn’t know yet that it didn’t matter how you died, you reanimated. So Instead of containing the virus, they created a zombie army that they couldn’t contain. I tried without much hope to reach them early on, but once the government broke down and Nancy turned, I gave up all hope that they survived.

That was, at least, until a couple of weeks ago, when I ran across my grandsons neckless.

I was part of a group that had made the trek to another survivor stronghold for a supplies swap. I went mostly so I could scavenge parts to replace the various items on the wind generators that were starting to break down.

We got to the other stronghold without too much trouble, and had finished the swap when I noticed one of the other guys was wearing my grandson’s necklace. He had made it himself so it was a unique piece that I recognized immediately.

When I inquired about how he got it I was rather impolitely told to commit a physically impossible act. Being out numbered I decided to wait until we left and after a couple of days I doubled back. It took a few more days of waiting till I could get him by himself, but eventually the opportunity presented itself and after some persuading, I was able to convince him to tell me how he had acquired the neckless.

Turns out that about six months prior a guy matching my grandson’s general description had come thru and had taken refuge overnight with this guys group. They guy had bargained for some supplies including trading his necklace for some extra water purification tabs. The clincher was he had mentioned heading up to Indiana to see if any of his family had made it.

Yeah, I know it’s still a long shot, but what are you gonna do. It family, and if there’s a chance, you gotta check it out.

I had sworn to myself I was done with these solo trips after my trip to Disney. Not only were they unnecessary since Paladin had dropped off the face of the earth, but it had become even more dangerous after all these subspecies of zeds started showing up.

Call me sentimental, but I miss the good old days where all you had to do was shoot the SOB in the head and it dropped. Now you got to figure out what kind of monstrosity your looking at, remember what it’s weakness is, and more importantly what doesn’t work. Plus, the last thing you want to do is be out by yourself when a fresh wave of zeds gets produced by the CVC’s latest screw up.

But here I am, once again spending a night locked in a abandoned car trunk so I can catch a few z’s without worrying about getting eaten by a wandering zed.

Note: While this is a good trick for spending the night fairly safe, I learned the hard way to make sure the emergency trunk release works before climbing in. Otherwise, the noise you make getting the damn trunk open will just about guarantee a crap load of nearby zeds will come shambling your way, but I digress.

So, if being out here alone is such a stupid, hare brained, sure to get you killed idea, what the hell am I doing out here? In a word, family.

It’s been over a year since I made my last entry in this journal. Not since I hooked up with Night Angel and his friend on my way back from my scouting trip to Disney. Quite frankly I’ve been too busy staying alive to take the time to write anything.

Night Angel took the intel I had gathered and said he needed to head out west to follow up on what I had found in conjunction with what he had gotten. No one has heard from him since. On the other hand, no one has heard anything from paladin in over a year either.

We don’t know if one thing has anything to do with the other. For a while we would sit around and spin various theories ranging from his taking one too many risks, to him taking the paladin leaders out and going into hiding. Personally, I’d like to think he’s out there somewhere, and we will see him again one day.

As for paladin, whether Night Angel took them out, or the zombies did doesn’t really matter. In either case, they no longer appear to be a problem and we’re too busy with what’s trying to kill us today to spend time on figuring out whatever they were trying accomplish.

The house has grown quite a bit since I first met them. When I joined the group two years ago, there were only 18 of us. We’ve lost people. Some to zombies, some to marauders, and some (like Night Angel) left one day and didn’t come back. But we’ve gained more than we’ve lost, and today we’re at just under 200 strong.

We’ve also made friends with other members of other safe houses which has allowed us to set up trade with one another. This has been invaluable since not only are we not getting any help from the green zones but they are on the list of things trying to kill us.

Not directly the way that paladin was. No, instead the “privileged” survivors appear to have totally lost their minds. With each hair brained scheme resulting in even more zombies than the one before.

The latest twist is that even the CVC seems to be cracking up with parts seceding from itself and even leading up to a civil war of sorts. While (as always) this appears to have lead to more zeds we need to kill since the casualties (as usual) reanimate. We keep hoping that they will just hurry up and finish offing themselves and stop creating more problems for us out here.

Well, I goto go. One of the new guys just came thru screaming something about guys in bunny costumes which just can’t be good.

Q:What did you do before the apocalypse?
A:I was a well known slumlord in the neighboring city of Woonsocket. To keep from looking like a complete piece of shit with city officials and inspectors, I maintained a small print shop with my mother. Family business always looks good!

Q:Can you tell me about the first zombie you ran into?
A:The first zombie I ran into was at one of my “sleezier” apts in a “sleezy” part of the city. I kept getting calls of complaints from other tenants, then neighbors and after having avoided doing anything about it for a couple Weeks, I decided to take a run over to see what was up. They were right, it stunk…headed up to the apt and after several knocks with no answer, I decided to let myself in. There he was. One of my sleezy tenants all dead and zombified. Shoulda known. Real scumbag. Always late with rent if he actually had it. Needless to say, I took a baseball bat to his head. Boy did that feel great!! I couldn’t freakin stand this idiot!!

Q:How did you survive in the early stages?
A:Luckily for myself and some buddies, we had formed a sort of alliance. Just a group of guys willing to get together if ever the shit actually hit the fan. Never really thought it would, but it did. Needless to say, we had already been putting things aside for a rainy day like this. Food, water, supplies and whatever else sounded like a good idea. We headed to our secret location and have been doing just fine. We ventured out when we had to restock on certain supplies or to simply go out pillaging when we were bored.

Q:What kind of background/skills do you bring?
A:I’m kind of a “jack” of all trades. Being a slumlord and prior property manager, I taught myself basic carpentry and electrical work and a little more in the plumbing dept. I also have my fair share of mechanic skills have worked on all my own cars/trucks since I started driving.

Q:How did you hear about FEMA?
A:Me and the boys were out for a Sunday stroll, off to score more heating oil for the trucks when we came upon a woman and her dog. She looked tired and beat up, almost like she’d been through an f’n apocolypse! Wait a minute…..she had……she said her name was Tamara and her dog was Killian. We took her back to camp where she could get a hot shower and some food in her and her straggly looking dog. Poor lil fella.

She told us she’d been traveling for who knows how long. She left her old shelter in search of a better place, where she would fit in better. She told us of this place down in Texas, FEMA. She’d heard this was the place to be. After hanging around for about a week regaining her strength, we loaded up the trucks and headed south to what would be our new home.

Q:What other safe-houses have you been a part of?
A:I’ve not been a part of any other groups, only FEMA and my own small group in the beginning

Q: What do you miss most from the pre zombie apocalypse?
A:There’s not much I miss preapocolypse. Life was getting kinda dull. Same thing day and day out. The apocolypse has really made things quite exciting! One thing I do miss is some sleezy, greasy fast food…wouldn’t mind me some McDoubles or a nice Big Mac with some chicken nuggets, fries and a tasty coke!! Yes sir!!

Editor’s Note: The interviews have been a lot of fun, but I have run out of volunteers who are willing to be interviewed. If you are wanting/willing to be interviewed, please contact me on palringo or whisper me on psc. Name is Brian S on both.

Q:What did you do before the apocalypse?
A:I was a radiology tech in a hospital

Q:Can you tell me about the first zombie you ran into?
A:My first zombie was this patient who came in for emergency surgery. She wasn’t looking to good and reminded me of that scene from Dawn of the Dead. Boy was I surprised when she turned into a real life zombie. Thankfully her emergency surgery was for shattered legs so we cut her head off with the saw we use for amputations and called it a day.

Q:How did you survive in the early stages?
A:Having War around really helped. Then there was always my trusty hammer.

Q:What kind of background/skills do you bring?
A:I have a little bit of medical knowledge and I can think creatively under pressure. I am not afraid of a little blood and guts.

Q:How did you hear about FEMA?
A:We went north along the highway and heard of the underground bunker in Denton. Thankfully Furie let us in the gates.

Q:What other safe-houses have you been a part of?
A:I am a Fema lifer but my second home is 420 alert. I like to visit for a nice calm oasis. They’re good peeps.

Q: What do you miss most from the pre zombie apocalypse?
A:I really would love some brie. Maybe a little Project Runway too.

Q:What did you do before the apocalypse?
I led a boring life before the world went to hell. Worked a basic labor job for decent pay so I could afford to feed myself. Went to the bars with the guys on weekends. Watched sports. Only real activity away from city life was shooting and hunting. Guess that paid off.

Q:Can you tell me about the first zombie you ran into?
Oh, you mean Donnie? Yeah. That was a shock. Not. Guy looked like a zombie before he was one. So, I was running late for work one morning. Didn’t check my phone, watch the news, or anything like that. Roads were surprisingly clear for morning rush hour, but I took that as a godsend to help me get to work. When I got to the foundry there were hardly any cars outside which was weird because nobody misses payday. I stepped inside and it was quiet. No grinders buzzing, no hammers slamming, none of the typical noise. I went back into the pouring room and saw Donnie hunched over a table like he normally was with his bad back. I called his name and asked where everyone was. He turned around faster than I would expect him to… huge gaping hole in his shoulder and his arm was dangling there like a limp noodle. I’d seen enough movies to know what was up. I went searching for something to take care of it. All that was back there was a 50 pound maul. Good enough. I put my power into it and slammed his head so hard it made a splat that Gallagher would be proud of. Poor Donnie. He was a good feller.

Q:How did you survive in the early stages?
Being raised the way I was, and having the dad I do, I learned at a young age how to survive different situations. The woods are a second home. I had my hunting rifle and a few other guns in the cabinet at home, so I just packed up my survival gear, grabbed my dog, and got away as far as I could. Couldn’t raise anyone on the phone, so I figured my friends were gone. A lot easier to get around unseen by myself anyway.

Q:What kind of background/skills do you bring?
Well I already talked about how I was a hunter, so there is that. I played a lot of sports throughout my life: football, rugby, wrestling, mma. Tried hockey, can’t skate. I always enjoyed being physically dominate. Be bigger, be stronger, run longer.

Q:How did you hear about FEMA?
From my friend Ally. I was roaming the woods after getting into another argument at the White House over something stupid probably. All of a sudden I picked up a signal on my portable long wave of a girl calling for help. I went to the location and cleared out some sleepers, found Ally holed up in a fashion shop. After a short rest, she told me where she was from and where she was going. Just tagged along.

Q:What other safe-houses have you been a part of?
Well, I tried to start up The Madhouse in the beginning. That went nowhere. Then I spent some time in a small Virginia Raceway house. After that I collaborated with a few members of The Satellite and we formed Irish Rover. That lasted a couple months before we merged with The White House. Now here I am.

Q: What do you miss most from the pre zombie apocalypse?
Miss most? Hmmm. That’s tough. If I had to pick a single thing, it would have to be Cardinals baseball. Nothing says luxury like going to a game plastered drunk and cheering on your favorite team.